The First Rule
by cobalt dragonfly
Summary: One-shot, Turks-centric, my foray into humor. Rated for Reno's mouth. Um...don't mess with Tseng. Yeah.


**The First Rule**

Tseng glanced at the clock. Carefully straightening his incident reports, he removed a small key from his pocket and unlocked his desk drawer, placing the stack of paper exactly in the center of a file folder and relocking the drawer with a decisive click. His austere black coffee cup, having been rinsed already, went on the corner of the desk, and an expensive gold-plated pen made a perpendicular slash across the unblemished snowy white of the blotter. He passed his cool gaze around the immaculate office and gave a short nod of satisfaction.

Rising to his feet and tugging the sleeves of his blue blazer down to leave precisely ¼ of an inch of shirt sleeve exposed, the leader of the Turks picked up his briefcase and strode to the door, passing elegant fingers over the waxy leaves of the purple phalaenopsis orchid on the shelf before flipping the light switch and pulling the door shut to lock automatically behind him.

He waited patiently for the elevator, feet spread shoulder-width apart, briefcase held before him in both hands. Sensing a presence in the hall, he turned his unruffled gaze to see Rude hovering indecisively in the doorway of his own office, frozen like a deer caught in headlights with one foot outside the door and a hand on the doorknob.

"Rude," greeted Tseng. There was a brief, uncomfortable pause in which Rude glanced down, then jerked his eyes up to very deliberately keep them on Tseng's detached face.

"Tseng," he finally replied. Tseng gave him a brief nod before returning his unruffled gaze to the smooth burnished metal of the elevator door.

"Leaving?" asked Tseng. Another pause.

"No." Rude shifted slightly to conceal his briefcase behind his back.

"I see."

Rude's eyes flicked to the digital numbers above the elevator door, which had stopped at floor 23.

"Is Elena still here?" asked Tseng.

"She, ah...she took a personal day," replied Rude. Floor 42.

"Hmm," Tseng nodded. "And Reno?"

A drop of sweat slipped unheeded between Rude's shoulder blades.

"Still in his office." Tseng nodded again.

The elevator dinged, doors opening with a quiet rush of air, and Tseng strode forward. The doors began to close behind him and he stopped them with his hand. His clear gaze found Rude, who hadn't moved a muscle the entire time.

"Are you certain you weren't leaving? I could hold the elevator for you," he offered politely. Rude merely shook his head.

"Suit yourself." The doors closed with a soft whoosh. Rude slumped against his office door in relief.

Tseng entered the parking garage, footsteps echoing hollowly against the concrete floor. He stopped beside a vehicle parked in a reserved space that had perhaps, at one time, deserved to be called a car. His serene gaze passed over the dented fenders and doors, the cracked windshield, and the rusted, sickly greenish paint. About the only thing that could be said for Reno's car was that it had an incredible sound system, one that the red-haired Turk had undoubtedly spent quite a bit of gil to have installed. The entire back seat was filled with speakers.

Tseng calmly pulled out his gun and fired into the driver's side window, the sharp retort of the pistol mixing satisfyingly with the sound of shattering glass. He set his briefcase down on the ground, then smashed out the remaining shards of glass with his foot before unlocking the door. No alarm system, he noted absently and without surprise. No one in their right mind would mess with a Turk's car.

The door opened with the screech of metal on metal, and he leaned carefully across the glass-covered seat to unlock the passenger side door. Shutting the driver's door firmly, he proceeded to the other side of the car and sank down in the passenger seat, nose wrinkling slightly at the smell of old cigarettes and cheeseburgers as he got to work. Taking out a pair of wire cutters and a screwdriver, he deftly removed the stereo components from the dashboard and set them on the hood of the car. Next came all of the speakers, including the ones from the back seat, followed by the amp out of the trunk. The entire process took maybe five minutes.

Tseng walked to the periphery of the garage and tossed the costly, high-tech stereo unit over the edge, where it fell five stories to shatter into myriad pieces beside a stunned secretary on the sidewalk. She stared upwards at the leader of the Turks, mouth agape with astonishment.

"I suggest that you move," Tseng said in the tone of voice one might use to inform someone that it looked like rain, and they might want to consider taking an umbrella with them before they stepped out.

The secretary fled.

Around 12,000 gil worth of speakers and amplifier joined the stereo on the ground, reduced to no more than expensive rubble. Tseng turned back to the violated vehicle. Bringing an elegant hand to his chin, he examined the hood for a moment before aiming an expert kick in just the right spot. The hood popped up and he propped it open with the 2x4 Reno kept in the engine compartment for just such a purpose. After deftly unhooking the battery cables and reconnecting them backwards, he let the hood crash back down, noting the scent of burning electronics as he fastidiously wiped his hands clean with a handkerchief. A wisp of smoke rose from the vent near the dashboard as Tseng walked away.

As an afterthought, he turned back around and sedately shot out all four tires.

* * *

_Earlier that day..._

_Tseng blinked as Elena stormed past him in the hallway, tears of pure rage shimmering in her hazel eyes, the front of her blue suit stained with colorful yellow splotches._

"_Elena—"he began, but she flung a hand up in the air and continued past him without a word to disappear into her office, slamming the door shut hard enough to rattle the walls. Tseng let his eyes close briefly in exasperation. If Reno did not stop tormenting the newest Turk, he would eventually push her into doing something regrettable, like shooting him. Elena might be naïve, but she did know how to use her gun. Quite expertly, in fact. Tseng would never have offered her the position if she hadn't met the requirements. He headed for Reno's office, knocking twice before opening the door._

_His eyes widened briefly at the sight of what looked like an automatic assault rifle aimed squarely at his chest before a barrage of small objects slammed into him, spraying him from crotch to shoulders with stinging impacts. For a full thirty seconds, silence reigned supreme as Reno sat frozen behind his desk, eyes wide with shock, mouth slightly ajar. Tseng reached up and calmly swiped at a streak of wetness on his cheek, bringing his hand down to gaze unconcernedly at the yellow paint decorating his fingers._

"_Modified paintball gun?" Tseng inquired mildly. Reno nodded once spastically._

"_Uh...yeah...shit, Tseng, I thought you were Rude! Man, your suit's ruined..."_

"_Hmm." Tseng glanced down, humming his agreement. "I would appreciate it if you would refrain from shooting that gun inside the building."_

"_Fuck, I'm really sorry, Tseng, it'll never happen again." _

"_I'm sure that it will not," Tseng replied unconcernedly. He turned and walked back to his own office, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he appeared to have been involved in an accident with a large bottle of mustard. The generic kind._

_

* * *

_

"Nah, man, it's all good," Reno said nonchalantly, slouched against the wall of the elevator. Rude shook his head.

"I don't know. He seemed a little...intense."

"It was an accident. I said I was sorry. He was totally cool about it, didn't yell or nothin'."

Rude lifted an eyebrow over his sunglasses.

"And that doesn't make you nervous?" he asked. Reno shrugged.

"I figure it's not like he had to walk around all day with paint on his crotch. He keeps an extra suit in his office." A feral grin crossed Reno's face. "Unlike Elena. Man, you should'a seen the look on her face!" he chuckled evilly.

"He didn't change."

"What?"

"His suit. He was still wearing it."

Reno frowned. The elevator door opened and the two Turks stepped through, only to halt in astonishment. A stunned silence filled the air.

"God-damned MOTHER FUCKING **SON OF A _BITCH!_**" Reno exploded, voice ending on a crescendo, his last word bouncing crazily around the ceiling of the parking garage as he stomped over to what was left of his car, grabbing the handle and yanking the door open.

"Uh, Reno—"

The red head sat down heavily in the front seat, only to fling himself instantly back up with a yelp. Rude shook his head.

"Do you fucking know how god-damned much that mother-fucking system _cost?_" Reno was fairly bristling with rage, pacing back and forth beside his mangled vehicle, arms waving as he continued his tirade. After a while it became apparent that he didn't have any plans to stop yelling profanities in the immediate future. Rude raised a large hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Reno, what was the first thing I taught you when you got hired?" interrupted the larger Turk.

"—take that fucking stick out of his fucking ass and ram it down his fucking—"

"The first rule, Reno."

Reno seemed to suddenly deflate, shoulders slumping dispiritedly, arms falling limply to his sides. Broken glass crunched beneath his shoes as he turned to stare at the mournful remains of his car.

"Don't fuck with Tseng," he finally sighed despondently.

"Right."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

Reno tossed his keys onto the glass-covered seat.

"Elena's gonna be a total bitch about this," he said.

"Probably," replied Rude. He laid a large hand on Reno's shoulder. "I'll give you a lift."

"I have glass in my ass," Reno muttered dejectedly as they walked away.


End file.
